


Rob Me Blind

by rosamund_mary



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3169490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosamund_mary/pseuds/rosamund_mary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Always in my heart, @Harry_Styles. Yours sincerely, Louis. </p>
<p>Harry sees the tweet over and over again and he can't help but to be affected by it. He knows that he shouldn't be. It had been mutual. Or at least that’s what he has to keep saying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rob Me Blind

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a lot of feelings on the [tweet](https://twitter.com/Louis_Tomlinson/status/120620074301267968) and this [prompt](http://buscandoelparaiso.tumblr.com/post/107923652323/huffleharry-huffleharry-someone-write-an). Song title is courtesy of Jay Brannan's Rob Me Blind, which you should listen to [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zx-Vq4LTlPM) THIS IS SAD. SORRY NOT SORRY.

**749,825.**

Harry knows that he shouldn’t check Twitter. He knows better by now. Liam has told him time and time again that he’s only going to make it worse for himself. 

_You mean making it worse for you, right Liam?_

But then Harry feels guilty the instant he thinks it. Because it’s not Liam’s fault, it’s really not. He knows that the fans mean well, and how could they possibly know the truth? 

**750,102.**

It’s as if his heart is swelling with the number. Every few seconds it climbs a little higher and he’s absolutely sure he’s going to burst with it. 

It’s honestly not as if it’s a problem, really. They still get along just fine, sometimes even forgetting the hurt just long enough to fall back into the old ways. Casual banter and a nickname drops easily from his mouth. It’s a force of old habit. 

That’s when everyone stops laughing and the air grows thick. Someone will clear their throat and change the subject. Usually Niall is pretty good about finding something new to occupy Harry’s thoughts, or at least to sway the conversation.

**752,449.**

Harry’s not even sure why it’s bothering him so much today. It’s not as if this hasn’t been coming for the last three years. Every now and then the numbers would spike, but he could brush it off and let himself be distracted. 

Today he’s not so lucky. There’s no tour, no rehearsals, no agenda. Just another free day and all the time in the world. 

He calls his mum and chats for a while. How’s the weather in England today? It actually rained in Los Angeles yesterday, reminded me of you. 

And of him. But he doesn’t mention that.

She must be know, though, because she’s being quite patient. Admittedly he doesn’t call as often as he should. So when he does call just to chat it must raise suspicions. He wonders if Liam tipped her off. Thank God for Liam.

They chat for just a little while longer, quickly running out of topics. She titters on about this and that, she bought a new toaster oven, the last one just completely burnt out. 

The conversation comes to a lull and she asks if there’s anything in particular he had on his mind?

“I miss him, mum,” he whispered quietly.

“I know, sweetheart.”

**754,664.**

He texted Zayn happy birthday. They had a short conversation about his plans. Nothing too exciting, just being with his family and to have a nice dinner. 

Zayn was always weary of their relationship. He was the one that thought I told you so, but would never - could never - say it. He was just looking out for them, Harry understands. He didn’t want it to shove a wedge in the band. He wasn’t right, but he wasn’t wrong, either.

_I think he’s sad too. Maybe you should call him._

Harry clutches his phone. He wants to delete the message. Wants to frame it on his wall. He doesn’t reply, though.

**755,701.**

It had been mutual. Or at least that’s what he has to keep saying. There had been a lot of meetings about it. Over and over and over again, it got quite repetitive. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? “

_Yes._

“It’s a big commitment.”

_That it is._

“You can’t come out now, you’re at the height of your career.”

_It won’t make a difference._

“What if you break up?”

"But what if we don’t?" Harry shot back. It was foolish, really. Smitten by a young first love and some beautiful blue eyes. 

Harry watched him from across the table at that last meeting. He had been silent the entire time, staring at a spot on the wall and his expression indifferent. It was almost painful to see him this way.  
They didn’t speak at all until they got inside their flat. Not a word until they were laying in bed. The quiet did nothing to hide them from the thick ache they both could feel. Even in the dark laying face to face there had never been more space between them than right then.

“Harry, maybe we should listen to them.” He had been tentative, placing his hand on Harry’s arm and speaking in low voices. “They’ve been doing this a lot longer than we have.” His voice was tight and he spoke deliberately after that. “And we have to think about the lads. It’s their career too.”

“I know. You’re right.” Harry nodded. He had reached his arms forward and Harry accepted them. Crawling into his hug and sighing heavily into his chest. “But that doesn’t mean that I want you to be.”

His reply was so quiet, sometimes he thinks that he imagined it. “I know, Harry.”

**758,390.**

Harry decided he really needed to get drunk. He called a car and went out to his LA friend’s house. There was a low-key party downtown, some after-after awards show thing. Perfect place to get lost and not be the center of attention.

One of the things Harry learned from becoming instantly famous was that there is a secret Hollywood club of broken-hearted people. Everyone there had to leave someone behind to get to where they were. Everyone knew the unspoken agreement, too. Just don’t ask. No one really cares, anyway. 

Harry supposed it helps that his person isn’t part of the ‘LA inner circle’. Though it wasn’t for a lack of wanting. Just that it was part of the plan. Harry plays the field. Draw attention away from the two of them. Anything to keep from it being him.

But it was him. It was always his jokes, his smile, his laugh. It was about his smirk when he played a particularly good prank, and it was about how he watched out of the corner of his eye for Harry’s reaction. It was about him being Harry’s biggest supporter when Harry thought that he might not be good enough. It was about the fond looks and the gentle touches and how he had never been able to click with someone so well. It was about how he loved him. 

And _God,_ did he love him.

**765,917.**

Harry wasn’t sure what time it was anymore. Stumbling through his dark house and not bothering to turn on the lights. It didn’t really matter, anyway. When he made it to his room he shed his clothes and crawled into the cold sheets. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and willed it to stop. Stop spinning, stop thinking, stop this constant feeling of drowning. 

He decided to call Liam. He would go through the routine. He’d tell Harry everything that he already knew. That it was the wrong place and the wrong time, Harry. That in any other situation maybe it would have worked, but for this time and this place this is right. This is how it is. 

The phone rang, and rang and rang. It picked up on the fourth ring and neither spoke for a few seconds. 

“Harry?” The tone was raspy as if he’d been asleep. He probably had. 

The sound of his voice is enough to break him. He hadn’t expected to hear it but now that he had hearing anyone else’s wouldn’t have been right. 

“Louis,” He cried. It was wet and deep and he stuttered. “Did you mean it?”

“Harry...” Louis was hesitant. He could tell there was something off. He could always tell. “What do you mean?”

“Am I always in your heart?” And it was hard. Harry felt like he had just lost this unspoken game. This hold-your-breath contest they had been playing and he choked first. 

Harry could hear his own labored breathing and sniffles sounding back through the receiver and he knew that Louis was still on the line. Seconds passes. Minutes, maybe. It could have been hours and Harry wouldn’t have known the difference. 

“Of course you are, Haz,” Louis whispers back. Harry feels light and heavy at the same time. The room is still spinning but he’s finally stable. “Always in my heart. I don’t think I could ever let you leave it.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, and it’s enough. For now it’s enough because it has to be. “Always in your heart, Lou.”

They don’t say anything else, but they don’t hang up. The line laying open between them speaks enough volumes as they fall asleep listening to the sound of the other’s breathing. For now, it’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> We are all just torturing ourselves. Please don't hate me. I love their love just as much as anyone. This is purely fiction and for our own sad indulgences. Now please read something fluffy and hug a pillow. x


End file.
